


Tidal Wave

by captainegg



Series: Dead Men Tell No Tales (Pirate AU) [1]
Category: Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston
Genre: Alex and Henry are rival captains, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Pirate, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bickering, Biting, Blow Jobs, Bottom Alex, Enemy Lovers, Explicit Sexual Content, Hair-pulling, Hate Sex, M/M, Rival Sex, Rough Sex, Swearing, Top Henry, mentioned death of family members, might turn into enemies to lovers in a not yet existent sequel, not historically accurate so please don't come for me lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-16 23:55:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28964988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainegg/pseuds/captainegg
Summary: Rivalling captains Alexander and Henry have been neck to neck for years but their relationship takes a different turn when Henry shows up unexpectedly on the Claremont.
Relationships: Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor
Series: Dead Men Tell No Tales (Pirate AU) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2130486
Comments: 16
Kudos: 67





	Tidal Wave

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a discussion we had over on the [RWRB: A Gray Area](https://discord.gg/DVqeKTtxqK) server about pirates and mermaids.
> 
> Thank you to AmberFox for beta reading and everyone else involved in that discussion for the encouragement 🖤
> 
> I really would love to explain the names of the ports and Henry's backstory but I think that would take away all the fun but do let me know your theories down in the comments. I'd love to hear them.
> 
> Title inspo: Hurricane by I Prevail  
> Playlist for this AU: [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1gHsawzmUjdCONWwOFEcj3) (because writing a new AU without a playlist is impossible)
> 
> Disclaimer: This is not a historically accurate fic in any shape or form. I just wanted an excuse to write shameless pirate smut. Maybe another time, lmao

It’s a rainy day in Port Windsor, the clouds hang heavy and low above the city, painting everything in an eerie colour. The streets are filled with travellers, pirates, smugglers and merchants despite the unpleasant weather conditions and the early time of day. Deep puddles line the muddy path to the piers where a dozen ships rock back and forth in the muddy water, relentlessly following the push and pull of the waves.

Alexander sits inside an inn, rum in hand. The air smells of alcohol, mould and piss. He downs the glass and slams it back onto the table, gets up and tosses two golden coins to the innkeeper before pushing open the door and stepping out into the pouring rain. 

He and his crew arrived just yesterday after a good two months out at sea and Alexander is painfully aware that his men would need the entire weekend off to spend all their money on weapons, rum and women before they could set sails again.

In truth, Alex has hoped to leave Port Windsor again this noon. The weather conditions aren’t ideal but they probably won’t get any better over the next few days and any day spent on land was one day less spent at sea. Lost time. On top of it all, Alexander hates Port Windsor with every fibre of his being.

Ever since British royalty arrived just a few years ago, the city has lost its rough edges, becoming more and more attractive to tourists and other royals. Their estate sits high above the city, tugged against the mountain. Huge marble walls separate them from the rest of the port, the poor and the pirates. The filth of Port Windsor in general.

Before, the port was a haven for pirates _—_ paradise on earth. But now prices have skyrocketed and guards patrol the streets more often than not. Seeing the red coats snoop around makes Alexander’s blood boil.

He turns left and follows the street down towards the piers where, beside the ships of merchants and foreign travellers, sits the Claremont, his ship. She is his pride and joy with her wooden hull, tall masts and intricately carved figurehead of a mermaid. The Claremont is fast and precise, no other ship manages shallow waters and high tides as good as she does. They have been through a lot together and Alex couldn’t have asked for a better ship to accommodate his adventures.

He climbs up onto the otherwise empty deck. It has finally stopped raining. 

Alexander sits down on a barrel, pulling out his dagger from the sheath on his belt. It’s a beautiful weapon, the smooth and cold ivory handle sits perfectly in his hand and the blade has saved Alexander more times than he would like to admit.

“Alexander,” says a voice, heavy with a foreign accent that Alexander hasn’t quite figured out yet. Not that he is even remotely interested in ever finding out in the first place.

He doesn’t even have to look up to know who is approaching him. A pair of worn-out leather boots enter his field of vision but Alexander doesn’t even think about lifting his head. Instead, he continues to clean invisible blood off of his dagger.

“Fox,” he snarls and finally lifts his head after his uninvited guest remains quiet. “What are you doing on my ship? I don’t recall inviting you.”

Captain Henry, better known among like-minded people like them as Fox, stands in front of Alexander in all his puke-provoking glory. He is the captain of the Saint, the only ship that has ever come close to rivalling the Claremont. A lot closer than Alex would like her to. 

Henry’s sandy blond hair is dishevelled from the rain and the wind, curling where it sticks to his temples. His eyes have the same colour as the ocean, deep and dark and watery blue. His nose is as always infuriatingly straight which Alexander believes must be witchcraft. No one is the captain of a pirate crew and has never had a broken nose. Maybe he should be the one to change that.

He and Henry don’t get along well. They never have. Enemies and rivals _—_ neck to neck since day one. Every time they meet, one of them either ends up pinned down with a knife to his throat or a gigantic hole in his ship. Henry always means trouble, he reeks of it.

No one quite knows where Henry comes from. He just appeared one day, hiring a crew and being an obtuse pain in the ass for Alexander and other captains alike from that day on. Alexander lost a big part of his crew when they decided to join Henry’s istead. A larger ship, better payment, an asshole as a captain. What a great deal indeed.

Unbothered by Alexander’s question, Henry says, “I didn’t expect you to show up here at all. Didn’t you say you wouldn’t return to Port Windsor the last time we met?” Henry doesn’t even look at him, inspecting his nails instead.

Alexander grits his teeth, jaw set. How dare Henry step foot onto the deck of his ship without permission and then not even have enough respect to look him in the eyes like a man. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know, Fox,” he replies through his teeth, eyes fixed back down onto his dagger.

Port Windsor is the place he lost his sister when he was still a young boy, just twelve years old. He and June were left to fight for themselves after their parents' unexpected passing. A shipwreck, they had told them, though Alexander never believed it.

They were able to survive in the wet and dark streets of the port for a good month before June fell incredibly ill and passed away in Alexander’s arms shortly after. The reason why he returns to Port Windsor time and time again is so that he can visit her grave, unnamed and tucked between a dozen of other graves that hold the bodies of people just as unfortunate as June.

He has never told Henry about it. Why should he? There is absolutely no reason to and he also doesn’t feel the need to justify himself for being back in Port Windsor. Not in front of Henry, not in a million years, not for chests filled to the brim with gold coins.

“I didn’t expect you here either,” Alexander replies and stops cleaning the dagger for a moment to look up at Henry. “Weren’t you in Port Santiago just a week ago? Are your men so desperate for whores already?” There’s a mocking tone in his voice and it fills him with satisfaction when Henry scrunches his nose in disgust at the implication.

“I hear you are quite the slut yourself,” Henry says, unbothered. “Sleeping in a different bed every night, don’t we, Alexander?”

Alexander hates just how little Henry seems to care about anything he has to say. He jumps up quickly to invade Henry’s space until his back hits the hard mast. Alexander has his dagger pressed against Henry’s pale throat, close to drawing blood. It’s a sight he has seen many times before but will probably never get tired of.

“You know that that’s not true,” he hisses.

Alexander doesn’t seek out the company of women or men, not in any port they have ever been to. Not since he has met Henry. He would very much like to spend his otherwise lonely nights wrapped in old and scruffy linen with dozens of the most beautiful of the bunch but no one ever makes his stomach squirm with arousal quite like Henry though he has never dared to touch the other captain more than necessary. But whatever he tries, that feeling just won’t go away, nothing he does ever seems to satiate the hunger. And Alexander hates himself for it. 

It’s the same heat and hunger that begins to build up in his gut when he sees the way Henry looks down at him right now, completely still and at Alexander’s mercy. Fuck.

Henry doesn’t say anything, only cocks his eyebrow and Alexander isn’t sure if that’s better or worse than Henry running his mouth.

Alexander slowly steps back and lowers his dagger, still holding onto it tightly. Just in case, he thinks. 

Henry huffs, rubbing a hand across his throat. “So uncivilised,” he teases, accent heavy, and Alexander instantly regrets his decision not to murder him.

He takes a step forward until he’s face to face with Henry again. He can feel the other’s warm breath on his skin and smell the faintest hint of rose and chamomile. A scent that is so undeniably Henry, it almost makes him vomit.

“What’s the matter, _Alejandro_?”

“Don’t call me that,” Alexander scoffs. His lips are just inches away from Henry’s and the urge to kiss him right onto his stupid mouth is so strong, Alexander can barely withstand it.

“Call you what?” Henry teases. He leans forward until his lips hover right beside Alexander’s ear, his breath sending shivers down his spine. With a voice that is disgustingly sticky and sweet, Henry whispers, “ _Alejandro_?”

Alexander drops his dagger and fully relies on his strength when he slams his body against Henry and both of them tumble to the ground where Alexander pins Henry down by his delicate wrists, teeth bared. He opens his mouth to let out a torrent of the worst profanities he can come up with. But the words never make it out because Henry’s lips suddenly are on his and Alexander’s entire brain just shuts down.

Henry is kissing him, actually kissing him. His lips are chapped but warm, his tongue wet and hot inside Alexander’s mouth. He hates it, hates it so much it makes his knees buckle and stomach squirm.

He can taste Henry on his tongue and it’s so intoxicating, Alexander feels drunker than he has ever been. He’s not sure how to act or what to do but Henry guides his hands until his arms are wrapped around Henry’s neck, fingers curled into his hair. It’s infuriatingly soft.

When they break apart again, Alexander snarls, “I will fucking murder you, Fox.”

Henry only chuckles and pulls back a little. He looks undeniably handsome, lips a little red and wet with saliva, his blonde hair fanned out like rays of sunshine against the wooden deck. “Maybe we should take this inside, what do you say? I promise to make it worth your while,” he says with a wink.

Alexander chokes on his spit, eyes wide. “What?” he stutters.

Henry grins and frees himself from underneath Alex and pushes himself off of the slippery deck until he stands on his own feet again and crosses over to the door that leads to Alexander’s cabin “Why don’t you come and find out, _captain_.”

This shouldn’t be hot, Alexander thinks. None of this should make his stomach squirm and cock twitch like it does. It’s wrong and it should feel wrong but somehow, it doesn’t.

Alexander stumbles back onto his feet and rushes after Henry. 

The inside of his cabin is warm, the air a little wet and heavy with the smell of old wood and rum. Maps and rolls of parchment lie scattered on the floor, piling on his desk that sits in the middle of the room. What can he say, he likes to make lists.

Henry looks around for a moment, not saying a word. But Alexander is ready to strangle him the very second he opens his mouth again. Henry is notorious for bashing anything Alexander is proud of but he draws the line at his ship. For some, Port Windsor might be their haven but for Alexander, it’s his ship. At least ever since he lost his sister.

“Cosy,” Henry says after a while, facing Alexander again. “I like it.”

Alexander grits his teeth, cursing himself for not grabbing his dagger. He could definitely use it now. “And what about it?” he spits back, arms crossed defensively across his chest.

Henry ruffles a hand through his hair, the fabric of his shirt slipping down and further exposing his delicate, pale wrists with its blue veins and pink and puffy scars. Alexander wants to kiss each and every one of it. 

Then he laughs and Alexander stops dead in his tracks. Is Henry laughing at him? Now it’s anger instead of arousal that sets his insides on fire. How can one person be so infuriating?

“I let you stay on my ship even after you didn’t ask for permission to come on board, I let you insult me and _kiss me_ but I draw the line at you _laughing_ at me. How dare you? I should have left you to drown by Port Mountchristen.” His voice is cold and hard, the words simply slipping off of his tongue without much thought. No one has ever dared to insult him like this.

Henry lifts his hands defensively and takes a step back. “Calm down, Alexander.” He then rubs a hand across his face, the other resting on his hip. And after an extraordinarily long sigh he says, “If you want me to shut up so badly, why don’t you make me?” A crooked grin curls the freckled corner of his lips.

Alexander wants to strangle him so badly, so he brings his hands up to close around his throat but gets sidetracked by lips pressing harshly against his. Alexander crowds the other captain against the heavy desk. The thud Henry’s body makes against the wood sends ink and maps flying. Neither of them seems to care.

Alexander curls his fingers into Henry’s hair, pulling and tugging _—_ anything to coax those promising sounds out of the other captain’s mouth. They are sweet but rough around the edges, music to Alexander’s ears.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” Alexander wills himself to say though he doesn’t want it to stop. Ever.

Henry pulls away and Alexander isn’t sure how to interpret the look on his face. It’s a mix of arousal and hatred and _if-you-say-this-again-I-will-murder-you_. 

“Fuck off,” Henry finally snarls and crashes their lips together in an ugly kiss full of teeth and tongue and Alexander happily follows his lead, pulling Henry closer and slotting his body in place against Henry’s.

He can feel Henry’s growing hardness against his leg and he can’t help but chuckle, teasingly nipping at Henry’s lower lip. “I always knew you had a thing for me,” he purrs.

Henry rolls his eyes and brings one hand up, laces it into Alexander’s curls and gives them a hard tug, tilting his head back. His lips latch onto the soft skin of Alexander’s neck, nibbling and biting. Hard. Alexander knows that it will probably leave a mark but somehow he doesn’t mind.

Henry places open-mouthed kisses up his neck and along his stubbly jaw until he presses a kiss to the shell of Alexander’s ear, catching his pierced earlobe with his teeth, tugging. “You wish,” he growls, deep and low. His voice is jagged and rough and _fucking hot_.

Alexander can’t help the moan that erupts from deep within his throat. It leaves his knees and arms weak, his body at the complete mercy of Henry. 

To regain the upper hand and to prove that _he_ is in fact in charge, Alexander sinks to his knees and his stiff fingers make quick work of the belt on Henry’s pants and after another moment of pushing fabric out of the way, he is quick to latch his lips onto Henry’s very hard and very hot cock.

It’s long and thick, a bright red tip and precum glistening in the dim light of the cabin. 

He curls his fingers around the base, squeezing gently and watching as more precum pearls out of the slit at the top. Alexander begins by licking up the shaft, swirling his tongue over the head and collecting the precum there before licking his way back down. Henry tastes pleasantly salty.

Henry fists his hands into Alexander’s curls again, guiding his movements up and down. He’s moaning, body relaxed against the desk and Alexander can’t help but stare up at him, taking in how fucking gorgeous he is. He’s still not sure if he likes it or not.

He opens his mouth further now and begins to take Henry in completely until his nose is buried deep in blond curls of pubic hair. Even here Henry smells disgustingly good like rose and chamomile and Alexander has to use all of his restraint not to gag.

“Bloody hell,” Henry groans above him, panting hard. His eyes are closed, long lashes resting on his flushed cheeks.

Alexander presses his tongue flat against the pulsing shaft, hollowing his cheeks as he continues to bob is head up and down. Sometimes slower, dragging it out more and sometimes a little quicker.

His own cock is achingly hard and Alexander brings one hand down and presses his palm flat against his groin. The friction is heavenly but he needs more, needs Henry to touch him, to fuck him.

Up until this very moment, Alexander thought of himself as a top, needing to be in control at all times. It’s what he has always preferred. But he wants Henry to fuck him so desperately, it makes his entire body ache.

He pulls his head free, a single thread of saliva connecting his swollen lips to the glistening tip of Henry’s cock. He lets go of the shaft and wipes his lips with the back of his hand and scrambles back to his feet.

Henry quickly pulls him close and into another crushing kiss full of teeth and tongue. He unapologetically pushes his tongue into Alexander’s mouth and tastes himself there. Alexander wishes it would never stop.

“You look good between my legs,” he murmurs in between kisses and Alexander hates how hard he blushes at that.

Henry spins them around and jolts Alexander up onto the desk, sending even more things flying. They don’t even notice.

He fidgets with Alexander’s belt and quickly pulls down his pants to free his cock, lacing his fingers around it and giving it an experimental tug.

Alexander can’t quite believe what’s happening because Henry’s hand around his cock feels too fucking good, he begins to question everything he knows about the other captain.

“You’re such an asshole, a boot-licking scabby sea bass,” Alexander growls, trying to keep up a serious face but he miserably fails.

Henry only laughs at him.

Alexander hates him, hates how he mocks him, hates that he stole his crew all those years ago. He hates how Henry always looks so good and perfect. He’s too perfect, too pure to be a pirate captain and Alexander can’t help but wonder how and why the fuck Henry ended up being the captain of a notorious ship like the Saint in the first place.

His thoughts are interrupted when Henry squats down in front of him and hungrily eyes his cock, watching eagerly as precum leaks out of the tip and begins to roll down his shaft in tiny pearls. He wastes absolutely no time to take Alexander into his mouth completely.

Alexander has to bite down on his lip to keep his voice down. He would very much like to moan and scream but he’s too afraid of others hearing them even though the ship and pier are completely empty. He whimpers instead, eyes squeezed shut.

Henry’s mouth is hot and warm, and he seems to know just what he’s doing because Alexander is quickly seeing stars in front of his eyes, sweat rolling down the sides of his face.

Henry has one hand placed on Alexander’s thigh to keep himself steady, the other switches from squeezing the base of his cock to fondling his balls and squeezing them whenever the tip of Alexander’s cock hits the back of his throat.

Alexander tugs on Henry’s hair until he is looking up at him, all messy blonde hair, flushed cheeks and watery blue eyes. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” Alexander breaths out. “I hate it.”

Henry chuckles and comes up again, large hands resting on Alexander’s thighs.

If he doesn’t have at least three of Henry’s fingers buried deep inside his hole in the next minute, he will lose every ounce of self-restraint he has left.

Their lips meet in another bruising kiss, hands tugging remaining fabric out of the way and Alexander quickly finds himself shirtless, bare chest pressed against Henry’s clothed one. His skin is hot and lust pulsates through his veins wherever Henry presses a kiss.

“Turn around,” Henry orders, stepping back, and Alexander happily complies, jumping down from the desk and bracing himself on the desk with his forearms.

His skin is unbearably hot, impatience itching under his skin. An itch only Henry can scratch. And when the other captain finally touches Alexander, he almost blacks out. His knees hit the desk hard and he cries out in surprise, pain shooting up his spine.

Henry positions himself behind Alexander, one hand braced on his back and the other pushes the fabric of his pants just a little lower. His fingers brush across the smooth skin on his ass and Alexander sucks in a breath, Henry’s fingers surprisingly cold on his hot skin.

“Have you ever done this?” Henry asks, dragging his hand over the sensitive, burning hot skin on his back. He drags a thumb over one of the scars there with a melancholic sigh. “Oh love,” he mumbles, more to himself than to Alexander.

“Don’t fucking call me that,” Alexander snarls. 

Unbothered by Alexander, Henry asks, “Do you have any oil on hand? Wouldn’t want to hurt you now would I?”

Alexander growls and rolls his eyes. “Top drawer of the desk,” he says, eyes closed. He takes one, two deep breaths.

Henry hums and suddenly his hands are gone as he rounds the desk and opens the top drawer, retrieving a small brown bottle filled with oil. He smooths his thumb over the washed-out label with a chuckle. “You’re a naughty one, aren’t you?” he teases.

“Do you always talk so much?” Alexander asks through gritted teeth. 

Henry defensively lifts his hands and quickly takes back his place behind Alexander. He can hear Henry pulling out the cork of the bottle with a soft _plop_ , the slick sound of him spreading the oil around. Then, finally, he touches two of his long and elegant fingers to Alexander’s twitching hole. The first touch is weird, foreign and startles Alexander a little but then Henry begins to kiss and bite his bare shoulders and he finds himself relaxing a little more. Without much trouble, the first finger slides inside.

Henry licks up a wet stripe to Alexander’s ear, pushing his finger in and out at an annoyingly slow pace before he pulls back completely and returns with two fingers.

It knocks all the air out of Alexander’s lungs and his head lolls to the side, exposing more of his neck to Henry’s hungry mouth.

He curls his fingers and angles them just right, fingertips relentlessly brushing against Alexander’s prostate and coaxing increasingly desperate sounds out of him. His cheeks burn with heat and embarrassment but at the same time, he doesn’t care because Henry begins to tease a third finger in.

Henry presses his front flush against Alexander’s back, relentlessly pushing his fingers in and out of him. His breath brushes past Alexander’s ear hot and wet, making his eyes roll back into their sockets.

Henry brings his free hand around and curls it around Alexander’s neck, fingers pressing just slightly down. His rings dig deep into the soft and sensitive skin and Alexander tries desperately to bite down the moan that is building in the back of his throat but it’s no use.

It erupts from his throat like a volcano, his entire body quaking. The sound sounds unsexy to his ears but Henry presses a wet kiss to his neck and it’s just then that Alexander realises that Henry too is moaning, muffled against his sweaty skin.

“Oh fuck,” Henry groans into his ear and pushes his fingers in even deeper which Alexander thought wasn’t even possible at this point. “Why have we waited so long to do this?” Henry asks. His voice sounds so fucked out and desperate that Alexander hates how fucking much he actually enjoys this.

“Less talking, Fox. _Fuck me already_ ,” Alexander says. He’s reaching a critical point where if Henry doesn’t begin to fuck him any time soon, he will come on his fingers. A waste, honestly.

“So bossy,” Henry teases and Alexander quickly considered strangling him for real this time. But then Henry replaces his fingers with his cock in one quick motion and the world around Alexander begins to spin and doesn’t stop spinning for a good ten seconds.

“Oh fuck,” Henry groans when he’s completely buried inside Alexander and he has to agree, _oh fuck_. 

It surprises Alexander a little how talkative Henry has been so far, usually the quiet and broody kind. He’s unsure whether he likes it or not.

Henry’s cock is filling him out so well. His fingers are nothing compared to this in length and thickness. So when Henry begins to pull out, Alexander clenches down hard around him, wishing he would never leave his body again.

Henry drags his hand over Alexander’s neck and laces his fingers into the curls in the nape of his neck and tilts his head back roughly, followed by him slamming his hips against Alexander’s ass.

The slap is loud, echoing through the cabin and Alexander is far past the point of caring about anyone hearing them, moaning loudly and licking his lips, hungry for more.

He can’t believe how good this feels, Henry’s cock inside him, his hair pulled and head tilted back uncomfortably. It hurts but it hurts _so good_.

Henry continues to pound into him relentlessly and Alexander soon feels the familiar buildup of heat in his gut that quickly spreads through his entire body until every fibre is on fire, longing for Henry and only Henry. 

“Please,” he whimpers, his voice embarrassingly shakey. He needs Henry to touch him, needs it as desperately as an alcoholic craves whiskey. “Touch me.”

Henry bites down on Alexander’s shoulder and brings one arm around to Alexander’s front, curling his fingers around his throbbing cock and giving it one, two tugs before it hits Alexander like a tidal wave and he trips over the edge, coming all over his desk and Henry’s hands.

His insides are hot, so unbearably hot and Henry is still very much buried deep inside him. Alexander wishes it would never stop.

Henry’s movements behind him quickly become more rapid and both of his hands latch onto Alexander’s hips, fingers digging deep into the dark brown skin and holding him in place.

When Henry comes, he snaps his hips forward one last time and bites into Alexander’s shoulder, muffling his moan, marking him up shamelessly. His cum is hot inside him and he can’t believe that this is actually happening and not some weird dream.

For a moment he does think it’s all just a dream but Henry’s cock twitching inside of him, his hot mouth on his shoulder, his nails digging deeper and deeper into his skin are very much real.

When Henry pulls back, Alexander can barely hold himself up, bracing himself on the desk and hoping not to collapse. His legs are tired and he feels too empty too soon. Henry’s cum leaks out of his hole and slowly slides down his shaking, bare thigh. It feels weird and gross.

He can hear Henry move around the room behind him, but he doesn’t dare to turn around.

Will he mock him? What does this mean for them? Does this change _anything at all_? What will happen when they meet again? He’d rather not think about it.

Alexander hears the ripping of fabric and then Henry is touching his back and gently wiping away cum and sweat. It’s almost tender and makes his gut twist aggressively with confusion.

“I still hate you,” Alexander says, voice barely anything but a whisper, pulling up his pants. It’s not really meant for anyone to hear, not even for Henry. He tries to convince himself that Henry is still the worst and that he will actually strangle him the next time they meet.

Beside him, Henry chuckles softly and nuzzles his nose into Alexander’s dense curls one last time. “I know you do,” he whispers back before he’s gone.

“Fucking Bastard. I can’t believe I… argh, fuck this boot-licking asshole,” he curses under his breath.

Outside the door, he can hear Henry laugh loudly.

Fucking hell.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Comments and kudos are as always very much appreciated 🖤
> 
> There might be a sequel coming or maybe not, I haven't decided yet but do let me know in the comments if that's something y'all would be interested in!
> 
> Come and join the [RWRB discord server](https://discord.gg/DVqeKTtxqK) (open to anyone)!


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